When You Speak, I Listen
by eternallypeaceful
Summary: To Emily Bolton, it's just a secret about who her brother likes at school. To Troy, well, it's who he's dreamed of for the past three years. But to Gabriella, it's way to mend her broken heart. They all thought it was harmless. But it really wasn't.
1. The Listener

**Writing the love-hate relationships between Troy and Gabriella is probably the hardest form of stories for Troyella fans because there's so much time you have to spend NOT having them together, in fact having them the totally opposite. That's why I wanted to start this story also. This is more teenage-y and honestly, I'm more comfortable with writing these kinda stories. Even if I'm not exactly a teenager still.**

**Alright, heads up. I think it would deeply help your imagination if you guys knew that as I write this story, the character Andrew Baker looks a lot like Alex Pettyfer. Like if Zac Efron, Vanessa Hudgens and Alex Pettyfer played in a movie together, this would be a fanfiction about that movie but unfortunately there's no such movie and it's not exactly a slash between Beastly and High School Musical either. **

**I hope you guys like this story! Thank you so much for reading, reviewing and subscribing!**

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><p><em>Chapter One: The Listener <em>

In a pair of best friends, each person is one of two types: 1.) The Talker- the person who is basically the leader in the pair, the most outgoing. Think of it this way: if you're at a party and you keep having to stop talking to your best friend because people keep coming up to her/him because they want to say hi but end up talking to them for a good fifteen minutes- then you're looking at the Talker of your friendship. And 2) The Listener- the person who is most quiet. If you find yourself talking the most while you and your best friend are together, then your best friend is the Listener. If he/she is asking questions and very attentive, than you've got yourself a good Listener- someone who cares about you. If he/she is very far off and doesn't care: then you may have gotten your roles mixed up because the designated listener in your group is dying to blabber. Let me give you some examples. Here are the most popular friendships at East High:

1.) Chad Danforth and Zeke Baylor. Chad is very clearly the Talker in this pair. He's the one that sets both of them up with dates to parties and he's the one who throws the parties, too. Zeke is very lovable and fun but not quite as out there as Chad.

2.) Chad Danforth and Taylor McKessie. Now I know that Chad was the Talker in example number one but when it comes to couples, it gets very complicated. Chad is head over heels for Taylor. He'd do anything for her. Taylor loves Chad too but she is a genius, she'll never fall for someone and let them boss her around. That's why Taylor is the Talker in this pair.

3.) Sharpay Evans and Ryan Evans. Should I say anything at all?

4.) Ryan Evans and Kelsi Neilson. Just like Chad and Taylor, Ryan is the one who switched roles in this couple. Ryan can be humble to Sharpay but Kelsi is the type that needs someone to encourage her shy self to get out there. Ryan is there for her to do that.

5.) Lastly, Andrew Baker and I. It's pretty self-explanatory, now. He's the Talker and I'm the Listener. But, there's only one thing that makes me sit tight and shut my mouth more than the fact that I really am just extremely shy and inwardly. I love him. Yes, I am madly in love with the king of East High who boldly took me in as his rightful best-est friend. Every single second of every day, I am torturously aware that he is my best friend and my biggest fear is saying or doing something that might lose him forever. So, I'm quiet.

This year, I promised myself, would be different. It's our senior year and this year, after three years that I have constantly dizzied myself into thinking that he might actually have feelings for me, I've decided to do everything I possibly can to forget him. This is going to be hard because without Andrew, I am nobody in school. It's very unoriginal but I'm the girl that Andrew Baker chose from the menu. The one who is always by his side, through every heartbreak, every fight, every time he argues with his parents and every time he loses a game. To some, I am the stupid one who's just misusing the position. But in truth, I'm just the side salad because Andrew is not constantly in some mishap; he's a happy person who has happy things to do. Most of the time, I'm not needed. Every girl who Andrew has been with knows that he's not the guy whose heart you should break- or else you will be haunted forever by East High as the girl who tore him a part. Andrew won't get into fights with his friends from the football team because he knows how much they are worth. He hasn't been in an argument with his parents in an incredibly long time and he hasn't lost a game since middle school.

He's Golden Boy. But he keeps me around anyway and that's exactly why I think it's possible that he may love me back. I haven't always been this way. He and I were best friends since we were babies. In 8th grade, Andrew took a three week long trip to his grandparent's house in Florida and what can I say: it was the longest time we were a part.

He came back and I saw him in a new light. Like Taylor Swift says, "When you're fifteen, if somebody tells you they love you, you're believe them". Except, he didn't tell me he loved me, but I still believed it. Of course, his looks don't do anything to help me forget him. Perfectly sculpted, dirty blond hair, green eyes. God really went all out on him, I can tell.

Three years and two of Andrew's girlfriends later, he's still my best friend, he's not anywhere close to knowing how feel about him and we're about to graduate .

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><p><em>First day of school<em>, I think as I stare up at the ceiling of my room. It's our last first day of high school. I wonder if things are going to be different. I remember when I was a sophomore I thought it would feel completely different not being a freshmen again. I was proven wrong the very first day of school when people still treated me like Andrew's second hand. This year, I already received a text from Sharpay Evans asking if Andrew will be able to make it to her party next Friday. I replied, as usual, saying that I would ask him. I sigh and decide it's about time to ask him if he wanted to go. She sent me that next about two weeks ago and I still haven't replied.

"Hey" I call into the darkness of my room.

"Hello" he greets back in a smooth voice.

"Sharpay wants to know if you'll come to her party on the 17th" I ask him. He groans and turns over in my bed.

"They really should stop treating you like my assistant" says Andrew and I smile. That's sweet. "You should tell them that"

"And miss the invitations to all those parties? I'll pass" I say. He chuckles.

"You'll have to come anyway. We need a designated driver"

"Aw. Shucks" I say. We both laugh now. He turns again and matches my staring-at-the-ceiling position on my bed.

In the excitement of our senior year starting tomorrow, Andrew snuck into my room at 5 this morning. I don't mind of course, but if my mother finds us in bed together –even if we were fully clothed and not under the sheets- she would freak. I have a feeling she might visit since it's first day of school too. I don't want to tell Andrew that he needs to leave.

"Senior year" he chimes. "Can you believe it?"

"Nope" I say. Along with senior year, though, a series of words comes as well. Like, prom and graduation. Worst of all: college. I have to refrain from shuddering.

"You know why I like you, Brie?" he asks. I only wish that he was serious when he says stuff like that.

"What?" I'm curious though.

"It's 6:00 AM on the first day of day of senior year and you're not up like the rest of the girls trying to decide what to wear"

This reminds me. "Shit!" I leap off my bed. "I don't know what I should wear!"

He turns over laughing and it takes all of my will power to join him on the bed again and crack up too. I'm in my closet, unfortunately for my heart, and trying to decide to wear. For the next half an hour, I do things to entertain Andrew. I threw on insane things that I haven't worn since middle school and let him laugh at me endlessly. In the end, I don't let him see what I'm actually going to wear. Instead, I shoo him away, back to his own house and tell him I'll see him at school.

"I'll pick you up" he offers me. It's bright outside. The sun was shining and we were on the balcony.

"You don't have a car" I remind him.

"Yes, I do" he says and then out of his pocket, he pulls out a pair of keys. "Senior present, apparently" he says, probably quoting what his parents said when they gave it to him.

"Wow"

"I know right?" he agrees. He steps over the balcony's railing and onto the branch of the tree.

"Alright, then. I want you here at 7:15 sharp" I tell him.

"Yes, ma'am" he gives me a wink and then climbs down the tree. I turn and walk back inside, closing the door behind me. My head is still spinning from his wink when I get into the shower ten minutes later.

I think its clear that when I'm alone with Andrew, I'm a completely different person. Some days at school, I can go through the whole eight hours without saying a word. Andrew will be distracted by his guy friends, the teachers will pick on the people who don't already excel in their class to answer their questions and just like that, I go unnoticed at school. It's only times when Andrew stops me in the hallway to share a story, or at parties when he always brings me with him and when he reserves a spot for me at lunch that I actually exist to the rest of the school. This summer, we spent maximum time together but very seldom alone. When we're with a group of friends, I can be totally butted out but times like this morning are extremely rare. They're the ones that I yearn for. The ones that make me think that he might have matching feelings for me.

I shake my head in the shower. _No thoughts like those_, I warn myself. But I can't. I don't want to forget him. He's so sweet and charming. He can be like that with any girl but I'm the one he chose. I'm the one that gets to have mornings like these with him. I want more.

Forty-five minutes later, Andrew honks outside. When I open the door, he's sitting in a red Porsche Boxster. I grin. As if the girls don't already swoon when he passes by, this has to add the last touch. He was wearing a sky blue t-shirt with jeans. Gorgeous, of course.

"Get in!" he tells me. "Can't be late for senior year!". I giggle.

"Your parents" I say when I close the door. "are awesome". He just beams. Andrew began to drive and the Porsche rumbled as it flew past my neighborhood ever so smoothly.

About half way through the ride I catch Andrew staring at me.

"What?" I ask.

"Your outfit" he recognizes. I look down to hide my blush. I forgot that he never saw what I was wearing for the first day of school. It was nothing actually. Just a white sundress. But he noticed. That means the world to me. "I bought you those" he points at the pearl bracelets on my wrist. I nod.

He did, for my birthday last year. I wore them at New Year's also but he only noticed now.

"You look…" he stared out at the road as he says this, "Nice"

I smile at him graciously. Nice. Nice is good.

We arrive at school and eyes are turning. I look down at my hands while Andrew takes the gazes more charismatically. He waves to a friend and laughs at the signals they make to each other. Five minutes later, we are walking to the school's entrance after the car is safely parked away. A burly, broad shouldered boy named Jason walks over to us, takes Andrew's hand and does that manly hug with him that guys always do. And from then on, I'm forgotten.

That is, until the deep growl of an engine roars through the parking lot. Then, everything is forgotten. From the far entrance of the school, a motorcycle speeds its way towards the school. Like when Andrew made his entrance, it seemed every single eye turned again towards the motorcycle. But for all different reasons.

It's because on the bike is Troy Bolton, East High's designated mysterious boy. He's been here for same time as the rest of us but absolutely no one knows him fully. There are rumors of course: that he's murdered someone in the past; that he's actually a super senior who should've graduated two years ago, or that he sells drugs in the old bathrooms outside the football field.

This year however, something is making everyone stare at Troy's motorcycle longer than usual. I glance at Andrew for a second and then back at the bike that was no more grumbling. I realize that not one, but two people were getting off of it. A girl. Immediately, I know what everyone's thinking. Mysterious boy has a mysterious girlfriend. But when she turns, her eyes are the sparkling blue that were the exact replica of Troy's. Sister. He has a sister. But where has she been all this time?

"Who's that?" Andrew whispers. Suddenly, I glance at him and I can literally feel my heart shatter inside my chest instantly. He's fascinated .Completely in awe. I look around and every boy is gawking at the pretty new girl.

"Hot, huh?" says Jason.

"Not hot" says Andrew. "Fucking amazing".

I turn my gaze back to the girl. I can feel ridiculous tears threatening my eyes. She is 'fucking amazing'. And I was 'nice'. At that moment, I felt like a baby. Like some toddler who cries for what she wants. I bite the inside of my cheeks hard and force the tears back to their respectful glands. The amount of effort I have to put into doing this is completely idiotic. Suddenly, I'm far more desperate to get over Andrew than ever.

Troy and her begin making their way towards the school. He stands behind her, looking at the ground with his hands shoved into the pockets of her jeans while she walks excitingly through the gathered crowd. As they get closer, I recognize that we will have to move so they don't run into us. When I start to move, I can see the girl's eyes settle over Andrew. She smiles at him enchantingly. I look up at him. He gives her a smirk. Then, I look back and now her eyes are on me. She beams again and I give her an unsure smile. Troy is trying to catch her attention now, trying to speak, but it doesn't seem to be working because her gaze never lifts from mine. Her eyes are fixed on me and I can't look away without making myself look extremely fidgety.

My heart begins to pump loudly in my own ears as she gets closer. Finally, she's face to face with me. Beside me, I can feel Andrew stiffen too. Is he nervous? He never got nervous around me…

It turns out she's even more intimidating about a foot apart from you than when she is fifty. You can see that her face physically has no flaw. It makes every tiny scar on my body seem like a whopping birth mark.

"You're Gabriella right?" she tells me. "Gabriella Montez?"

She knows my name. I have to swallow to answer, "Yeah, that's me"

"Gosh! Finally, I get to meet you! I'm Emily. Emily Bolton" She puts a hand out. I take it reluctantly.

"Oh, hi" I say nervously. "You're new here?"

"Yes, I just transferred from West High" she says. "Looking forward to starting anew"

I smile and nod, not knowing what else to do. Her face flashes red for a instant and then she starts to talk again.

"God, I know you don't know me. But um..I don't really know anyone here-"

"You know me" Behind her, Troy points out. I realize this is the first time I've heard him speak.

"Siblings don't count. Plus, motorcycle boy's little sister doesn't really put me out there as a person they'd like to get to know" she retorts. I can't tell if she was joking or really just being mean.

"Yeah, and getting to know people got you so far today" he says back to her. I don't know what this means at all.

"Anyway" she comes back to me. "Could you please show me around?"

I have to hesitate. This isn't just showing her around. I was, for some reason, the first person she comes to this school. By the looks of it, everyone wants to get to know her. It'll be like what I have with Andrew. I'll be her assistant. The go to girl. I look at Andrew and then at her again and remember how much I want to get over him this year before I head off for college.

"Yeah" I agree. "Sure".

The day continued like most days except now, I was looked at for not being the one with the popular boy but the one with the new girl. I helped Emily find her schedule, then her locker and then her homeroom which conveniently is the same as mine. She talked a lot, reminding me of how much I don't talk. But every time I ask a question right after a class, she talks from that point to the time when the next class starts. For example:

"I thought you said you were Troy's little sister? You're both seniors, though" is what I said once

"No, he treats me like his little sister. Like some baby. But really he was just born 7 minutes before me. It's always been like that for me and him. Our parents, well, they're gone, see and we were 11 when they died. We have foster parents but my brother has always taken care of me in that area. He's actually a really nice guy, you know. I guess, the motorcycle can be kinda intimidating"

And that's how we got from homeroom to AP Chemistry. She explained to me how he got the motorcycle when he was 16, her first drive on it and how he didn't let her practice drive without all the gear on. They're relationship was a genuine sibling relationship. It was adorable. Not what I expected from Troy.

By the end of the day, her voice was starting to give me a headache. I remember when Andrew and I were friends before I was obsessed with him, I used to get these huge migraines from listening to him too much. He used to talk nonstop. He still does. It's just that now I actually like to listen to what he says.

"Emily?" I start just after the last bell of the day rang. She was gathering her books into an organized pile so that she can carry it smoothly. The rest of the AP Psychology class had already left. Turns out, Emily and I have five out of six classes together. She likes drama. I should've figured. I took an extra science in fourth period instead.

"Yeah?" says Emily.

"Um..I have to ask" I start. "How do you.."

She smiles at me, that enchanting smile that she gave Andrew. "Know you?"

"Yeah"

"Troy" she answers with a smirk.

"Oh" This surprises me. A lot. "Does he talk about everyone?"

"Nope" we make our way out of the classroom and into the loud hallways. "Just you"

"What?"

"Gabriella" she stops in me in the hallway and pulls me aside so that we aren't run over by people. That smirk that played at her lips was gone and I can see all that irreplaceable kindness in her eyes.

"My brother, he loves you. He's always loved you"


	2. The Dreamer

**Thank you guys for the amazing response to the last chapter! I'm so glad that you like the beginning of this new story and I hope that you stay with me until the end! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own High School Musical. **

**Enjoy!**

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><p><em>Chapter Two: The Dreamer<em>

As you pass through high school by the year, and I've noticed this significantly, in the first week of school you always feel like summer hasn't passed at all. You find some people you haven't seen at all in the past three months and others you saw practically every day. People broke up over the summer and others hooked up in the intense heat of Albuquerque. Either way, I've always felt like each year summers just feels shorter and that by the time you're a senior, you simply pick up the way you left off in June. Perhaps, in between your junior and senior year you're already thinking so much about it that you don't recognize when you've actually stopped being a junior and started being a senior.

In my case, I didn't feel any different. This year was about to change my whole life and I was numb to everything. I think maybe my feelings for Andrew sort of dulled out the stress that came with senior year. When I weighed out the pros and cons of getting over Andrew one night in summer, that fact was on the list. In order for me to successfully un-fall in love with Andrew, I need a distraction. That's why I picked my senior year- well, I didn't actually pick it. I just procrastinated this long. So, I figure college applications, graduation, senior prom everything would entertain my mind and steer it away from thoughts of Andrew.

Speaking of distractions, a week ago Emily Bolton told me that her brother loved me.

I couldn't take her seriously. Either that, or I didn't really want to take her seriously. First of all, the moment Emily said that; I could see why Troy treated like his little sister. She basically acted like she was an eight year old smarty pants running around in high school. Did she even think twice about telling me? Even if it was true; what could I do with that information? I didn't know Troy. Moreover, I have enough on my plate as of now. I can only take one boy trouble at the same time.

If you want to call that thinking about it, I did. The night of the first day of school, I came up with a list of reasons why Emily Bolton is completely insane and she shouldn't have told me this. The next day, I went to school with a plan to completely avoid her at all costs. We ended up not only spending passing times together but going out for lunch, too. Emily didn't bring up Troy again and I guess I was okay with that. But for those five days, every morning I would spend an extra moment observing Troy as he walked her towards me.

He didn't make eye contact once or say hello. Troy didn't even look at me the whole week. I didn't know in which dictionary this meant he loved me. He seemed completely uninterested in me. I was just another friend of his crazy sister's. And, if this was true then Emily really is a whole other realm of crazy. Why would she lie to me about her brother having a crush on me? Was it some weird way to gain friends at this school? Maybe Troy talked about everyone in school and I was the first one she laid eyes on.

Andrew wasn't much of a help. Mostly because I didn't look to him for help, though. If Andrew was helping with anything, it was breaking my heart. He nagged at me constantly to introduce him to Emily. He wanted me to talk about her and what she was like. In his mind, Emily was just as 'fucking amazing' as the first day of school.

Whenever he hinted anything about Emily, I would direct the conversation another way and talk about something else. Andrew, of course, didn't know that I was purposefully trying to dodge talking about her. For all he knew, I gained a sudden liking in my AP Psychology class because of all the random remarks I make about what Mr. Douglas, or Will is what he likes to be called, says in his intriguing lectures. That isn't misleading in any way. I truly do like Will's class but not enough to bring into a conversation just arbitrarily.

It's Friday, finally, the last day of the first week of school. The weather is just as scorching hot as it is in the middle of August and inside my house, the air conditioning is turned on. I relax into it as I walk in. Andrew asked me if we were still going to Sharpay's party this morning. In a daze, I said yes but now as the cool air kicked into my system, my heart wasn't pounding from Andrew's arm around my shoulder in the car and the lethargy that settled on me in the heat was gone, I didn't feel as up to it.

Sharpay's parties were terrifying. They were spectacular. But terrifying. Let's leave it at that. I wonder if Emily will be going. Even though I haven't quite figured her out yet, it's been nice having someone to talk to. Well, I guess I should just say: someone _else_ to listen to. Again, Emily does a lot of the talking and me just the listening but she doesn't talk about what other girls do. She's not completely enthralled by Andrew, at least not yet, to rave on and on about how good looking he is. She doesn't talk about her boyfriends, or even other girlfriends from back at West High. The only actual person she talks about is Troy but he's only come up about three times, including the first day of school. She has opinions. And, I respect her for it. So, I grab my phone and text Emily the question.

After dropping my bag next to the coach, I collapse on it and turn on the television. It's 3 PM and I doubt anything good will be on. I land on the channel where General Hospital is playing. I groan. Soap operas: seriously not my thing. I like medical dramas like Grey's Anatomy or House and other mystery type shows like Bones or Body of Proof. On the other hand, Andrew loves just about every single comedy series on TV. In short, he thinks Neil Patrick Harris, Charlie Sheen and Steve Carell are Gods. The only show we can agree to watch is Friends. What can I say? He got me hooked. But now, three years later, we've watched each re-run so many times that we can repeat every joke Matthew Perry ever says.

"You're home!" my mother is walking around the corner of the living room doorway.

"Hey" I greet and flip another channel. My mother walks towards me and gives me a kiss on the cheek. She smells like hospital. I glance at her quickly and see she's still got her scrubs on.

My mother is an OB/GYN in the Women's Hospital here in Albuquerque. She praises herself to be a walking dictionary for women's diseases, disabilities and stresses. I've seen it in action, too, and although it's completely embarrassing; she's really good at it. Like, when she's picked me up from school she'll have some sort of diagnosis for every girl in the round-a-bout where most students wait for their parents. There was one time she went to a parent-teacher conference once and told my History teacher that she might want to check that mole that's forming on her shoulder. Turns out, it was an early sign on skin cancer. My History teacher was forever grateful and I got an A in the class so no harm done. Of course, my mother didn't go without seeing her again. They saw each other a couple times for coffee and sometimes for dinner. She started visiting a lot and in another three months, they announced that they were partners. You know, the gay kind. So now, my old history teacher is my other mother.

I knew my mother was lesbian before. She told me right after she divorced my father when I was 6. Of course, at that age, I had no idea what that meant but as I grew, I understood more and more. Andrew knows ,of course, because my mother has been his as much as mine but he has developed a sort of boyish idea of my lesbian parents. You can imagine what that's like.

"So, how was your first week of senior year?" asks my mother.

"Good, I guess. No different" I answer.

"Made any new friends?" she says again. She does this regularly, like a medical checkup. I think twice about telling her about Emily. There are two possible ways she might take this: 1.) she might think we're friends like any other high school scenario. 2.) she might think we're girlfriends, like the type that's 'exploring'. Lately, my mothers have gotten into a habit of asking questions. Well, they've kind of always had it but nowadays –maybe it's with the idea that I'm going off to college in a year- it's more serious. So, there's a high chance that they might think Emily and I are doing it.

It's funny though, I've been friends with Andrew so long they haven't doubted once that I might be in an 'exploring' relationship with him. Maybe they know that I've had a crush on him forever and don't have the guts to act on it. On the other hand, my mothers have already walked in on Andrew and I when we were 7 doing the whole 'If I show you my pee-pee, you show me yours". Perhaps, they thought after that we've probably already done it.

My phone vibrated in my back pocket. I turned over and reached into the fabric to slip it out. Emily texted back.

"Is that one of them?" asked my mother from the kitchen now.

"Yeah" I say and read the text. It says: _Haven't thought about it. _I sigh. That's a big help. I decide to just answer my mother instead. "She transferred from West High this year"

"And she's a senior?"

"Yep"

"What's her name?"

"Emily" I know she's asking for her last name but I want to think twice before I tell her this too.

Troy earned himself a reputation, being the boy with the motorcycle and all. It's ridiculous the way parents put all the teenagers into groups when they don't even interact with them like we do. But, still, Troy is the bad boy in all adult's eyes. In East High, we haven't judged him that far. He's just the mysterious boy but the parents made the final verdict. He was to be ignored at all costs by their children. Any interaction between their children and him is fatal.

I know my mother is waiting. She's just staring at me and I'm staring back. I bite my lip for a second and wonder if my mother is like the rest of them. Of course not. She must understand how people tend to assume things too quickly; what, with her marital status being another topic of discussion amongst the Albuquerque suburb adult barbeques that she and my other mother are never invited to. I decide it's not going to be harmless telling her but nothing I can't handle.

"Bolton" I finish. She raises her eyebrows. Oh no.

"Bolton?"

My silence confirms it for her and I can't see her immediate reaction. She might've developed this over the years but I can't really see past her face anymore. I used to, when I was young. I used to know when she hurt, when she was confused or angry. Not anymore. I have to wait until she says something else to actually see what she's thinking.

She scrunches her eyebrows, squints her lids and says, "Sounds familiar".

Well, that's not what I expected it, but I guess it'll do.

I text Emily again, _So…no? _

I only have to wait another thirty seconds for her reply. _I can't_. _I'm a bit busy tonight. _

For probably the hundredth time this afternoon, I sighed again. After flipping through channels once more and finding that nothing was on. I move slowly upstairs, dragging my feet and carrying along my bag with me. By the time I reach the top, my phone vibrates again but this time it's not Emily. My heart beats wildly in my chest as I read the name _Andrew_ on my phone.

'_Where are you? _' he sent me.

I send back, "_At home, where are you?" _

I walk forward and turn left into my bedroom. Then, I find out where he is. Not because he's texted me already but because he's lying on my bed looking up at me with his playful green eyes. I gasp and he chuckles. I want to climb in next to him and breathe in his scent from his chest and it takes all of me to stop myself. Instead, I sit beside my desk and turn on music from my laptop. Taylor Swift's Love Story rings from the speakers and Andrew grimaces

"Something else, please!" he begs. I laugh but I don't change it.

Before I know it, Andrew is singing the lyrics. He's bobbing his head ridiculously at the tune, definitely not wondering how pathetic he looks right now and I'm keeling over in laughter. He springs up and starts this awkward Egyptian dance. I'm singing along with him now, through my giggles. The chorus comes again and now Andrew has dragged me off the bed to join him. He is holding my hands and making small, quick steps all over my bedroom in a kindergartener's version of the waltz. He's making the most hilarious expressions to Swift's lyrics that I can't sing anymore.

The slow part struck in the song soon enough and Andrew let me take it away until the upbeat. We danced around my room like little kids. In the last fifteen seconds of the song, Andrew was holding me close with those green eyes of his, as gleeful as ever, staring down at me. My breath hitches and I dare to gaze into his eyes. I wonder, just for a moment, if he's thinking what I'm thinking at the moment. I'm thinking that I'd like to kiss him. I'm thinking it would go perfect with the song and the dancing. The moment opened itself up to it. I'm thinking that maybe this is my chance.

The last note of the song plays and silence takes over until If I Die Young by The Band Perry begins playing. This song is definitely not one that he wants to dance to. I realize, then, that he wasn't thinking the same thing. Andrew takes my hand and lets me follow him to the bed where we collapse, staring at the bed. There's a long silence. He's still grinning but I'm flustered, trying to sustain myself from the high that Andrew just gave me. My whole body is tingling and I'm trying to think of a way to show that I'm not feeling anything special.

My mouth blurts out the words before I stop myself. "Do you know anything about Troy Bolton?".

As soon as I say it, I regret it. Even if Andrew didn't know anything about Troy, he would find a way to lead this conversation to Emily. She was the last name I wanted to hear coming out of his mouth. Andrew turns is head with one eyebrow raised.

"Troy?" he asks me again. I nod slowly to confirm, hoping that he doesn't say anything more. "Only that he was on the basketball team in freshmen year"

I stare back up at the ceiling, not willing to ask anything more and just waiting for Andrew to bring up Emily. He doesn't though.

"Actually" he lifts himself up off the bed and swiftly walks towards my tall bookshelf. He ducks his head to the fourth shelf up and pulls out a book. A yearbook. I sit up as he joins me on the bed again and flips through the pages. The yearbook he is looking at is our freshmen one. I watch Andrew as he intently scans each page until I forget who he's looking for. I'm just lost in his dirty blonde hair and long eyelashes.

"Aha" exclaims Andrew. He shows me the book. "Wildcats basketball team went undefeated that season"

On the page, is a huge picture of Troy grinning from ear to ear with a trophy in his hands. I look at him, pretending to be interested. Then, I remember something.

"Wait, he was a freshmen, right? And he made the Varsity team?"

"Apparently"

"Wow" I say, realizing he must've been really good at basketball. "And he didn't play a season after that?"

"Nope"

"Why would he just quit like that?" I wondered out loud. Andrew was still looking at the statistics on the side of the picture of Troy where it showed all the games he played and what the score was. He seemed mesmerized.

"No idea" he mumbled. I watched as Andrew bit his lip and observed each picture of Troy playing basketball. His sudden interest in Troy made me scrunch my eyebrows.

"Makes you wonder right?" says Andrew suddenly. "How did this guy suddenly became motorcycle boy?"

Then, I look down at the images of Troy. Immediately, the thought donned upon me too. The fifteen- or sixteen- year old teenager in this picture definitely cannot be the motorcycle boy I've been observing in the past week. This boy is actually happy. There's delight in his eyes. Sweat made his boyish haircut stick to his forehead. I couldn't find a trace of the enigmatic young adult that we call Troy in this picture, yet it was definitely him. The yearbook committee wouldn't have made that grave of a mistake.

Today's Troy had hair that was cut short and smoothly pointed upwards in the front. He wears his black leather jacket to school every day as if he doesn't perspire in that thing at all. He wears jeans too, mostly dark wash. I've never seen him in leather pants. He doesn't make eye-contact. He didn't represent the boy in this picture at all. He seems like a completely different person. A man, of course, now that he's grown up but Andrew is the same age and he still acts like a twelve year old sometimes.

"Anyway" Andrew slams the boy shut and I jump out of my thoughts. "Party later?" his eyes come up to mine.

I scrunch my eyebrows again, now in a more reluctant look. "I don't feel like it" I reply.

Andrew doesn't think before he says, "Me neither. How about we just stay home and watch a movie tonight?"

Instantly, my heart is in the air. It's probably been weeks since he's wanted to stay in on a Friday night.

"Sounds great" I manage through my utter pleasure.

"Alright" says Andrew, standing up. "Well, I'll just go and check in with mi madre and come back later tonight, say like 7 or so?"

I'm amused at what is probably the only Spanish word he knows. I glance at the clock. It's already 4:30. Just two and a half hours until I'll be in heaven the rest of the night.

"Okay" I tell Andrew. He takes the balcony-way down. "You know, we do have a front door" I say once he reaches the ground. He looks up at me and grins.

"Front door? Where?"

Finally, 7 PM came around and Andrew arrived back in my room while I was reading a novel on my bed. My mothers were informed that he was coming over and they agreed to not disturb us. My night was literally and completely utter bliss. Andrew had his arm around me the whole night, through all the three movies that he insisted we watch and the episode of Grey's Anatomy that I wanted to see. Andrew dozed off at the beginning. I fell asleep about ten minutes after him. We both woke up though at the end when the credits rolled across the screen in a position I don't remember we slept in. Andrew stood up and stretched like I've seen him do a thousand times before he left for his house in the middle of the night.

"Well, I'm off" he said to me and I saw him to the door.

"Drive safe" I tell him for the first time ever now that he's actually got a car and he's not taking the twenty minute walk back to his house.

He waves at me without looking and I give him a smile even though he can't see me too. With a yawn, I go upstairs where my cozy bed is welcoming me.

Today was good. Really good. I remember Andrew's scent and his strong chest holding me. I remember his light snore when he slept and being wrapped up in his arms when we woke up together. As I drift off into a sweet slumber, I think I'm going to dream of Andrew tonight.

But, I don't. I actually dream of Troy.


	3. The Daredevil

**I should be studying for finals. But, I guess when I'm in the mood for writing, I shouldn't deny it. I hope you guys like the chapter. This is also a really short chapter, not like my chapters are so long anyway. But, I hope what happens in this chapter is worth it. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own High School Musical.**

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><p><em>Chapter Three: The Daredevil<em>

My dream was so terribly cliché that I hated my brain for thinking it up while I was sleeping. Of all the shadowy things about Troy, I had to dream something up about his bike. What I hate most of all is that even now as I let myself be pulled back into the dream, those same feelings of utter excitement overwhelm me. I can't believe I have submitted myself to be caught in the whirlwind of mysterious boy and his bike.

But, I can't help it.

I remember him patting the seat behind him with a smirk on his lips that matched the one that Emily always gives me. His eyes sparkled playfully. His hair was as divine as usual. I don't know what product Troy uses to make that little front part of his hair curl up so easily; but God, please grant him a lifetime's worth of it. The time between me getting on the motorcycle, he starting it and us zipping off is hazy. I don't know where we are going. I'm not concentrated on the road. All I remember next is my arms around him, hair whipping around frantically and my cheek pressed against his firm back. As Troy speeds up and races down the streets, my heart begins to fly. Out of the corner of my eye, I see his head turn and glance at me. His lips curve in a warming smile. Suddenly, I'm embarrassingly aware of how tight I'm holding onto him. I'm surprised he hasn't keeled over from lack of oxygen.

"Oh, sorry" I say and bite my lip as I loosen the grip I have around his chest and lift my head up from his back.

"It's alright" he says back, not looking at me. "I don't mind"

I don't resume the same position. Instead, I start to reach for the handle that's behind me. I begin to look around to see where we are going. I don't recognize this place. Almost immediately, Troy accelerates to an impossible, lightning speed. I shriek. The last thing I remember from the dream was his low chuckle and my arms wrapped around Troy in that same deathly grip again.

Instantly, I'm on my bed again. Sometime in my sleep, I kicked the bed sheets off of me and now that I'm aware of it, the cool morning air is starting to fall over me. With swift movements, I envelop myself into them again, turn over and close my eyes. Slumber is nagging at my eyes and I surrender to it fully without a question. It's Saturday and I am desperate to continue my ride with Troy Bolton.

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><p>The high that Troy and his motorcycle gave me stayed with me through the next two weeks. Every time I see that bike rolling through the East High parking lot I have to tell myself to not stare at it or him too long. When I do look away, my heart is racing. I prayed that Andrew doesn't notice anything. He never did. He was too busy looking at Emily.<p>

Strangely, whenever I thought about Troy I felt like I was cheating on Andrew. It's strange because even without counting when Andrew and I have been in my incredibly teenage-stereotypical fantasies, we've still been more intimate than Troy and I in one dream. Yet, I still feel like I'm doing something sinfully wrong. What's more, and this could be hilarious also, is that there's more a chance that neither Andrew nor Troy have thought about me twice since my dream.

Today is Thursday and I'm seriously starting to get tired of myself. My thoughts have driven me wild. Last night, my attention was so far away that I only finished all my homework at four in the morning. I suffer the consequences now in Psychology as Will lectures and I'm starting to doze off. One moment, I'm lucid and vibrant but then, I am no longer aware of where I am.

"Gabriella". My eyes pop open. Will is looking at me with a smirk on his lips. I forgot how heart-melting his smile is. "Can you tell us what part of the brain is responsible for vision?"

I clear my throat. "Um, the occipital lobe?" I say as if it's a question although I know the answer is correct.

He raises his eyebrows. "Right"

I breathe. Will continues his lecture on déjà vu but my heart's still pounding through my ears so I can't hear a word. I look around and it seems like no one noticed me. Then, my eyes catch Emily's and she is grinning from ear to ear. I sigh. I guess I'm okay with only her knowing I feel asleep in what is my most interesting class this year.

The rest of class I catch a few words of Will's lecture but most of the time I'm still just trying to stay awake.

When Emily and I are the last ones to leave the classroom at the end of the day Will tells me, "I don't want to know what you high schoolers are doing up late on weeknight but you better get some extra sleep tonight, Gabriella. Who else is going to answer all my questions correctly?"

He gives me a friendly wink and allows me to leave without detention.

"Wow. Only you would get away with that" says Emily once we're outside.

"I guess" I reply.

Andrew joins us. He starts to ramble about the first football game of the season that's tomorrow. Emily gushes about how she's excited to go. I'm still completely out of it so I can't stop them from kindling a friendly conversation. I remember my bed at home and all I want to do is climb into it.

Outside the school, we bid her goodbye and she disappears. Andrew is approached by his friends and I have to wait by his side until they leave so we can go home. In the meantime, Emily returns. There's a concerned look on her face.

"I can't find my brother" says she. I bite my lip, not knowing what to say. "Can you help me look for him?"

I look up at Andrew and back at her. He's talking about the game again with his friends. This will be awhile.

"Yeah, sure"

We walk back into the school again and it has been emptied. Only a few circles of people are left in the hallways.

"Where's his last class?" I ask.

"AP Biology, but I don't know where that is"

"I do" I reply and lead her up the stairs to the second floor. AP Biology is the only class I don't have with Emily.

We reach the class but Troy is nowhere to be found. She says the words I dread. "Can we split up? Maybe we can find him sooner ".

I want to ask her why she's in such a hurry but I don't. I agree reluctantly and explore another wing of the school, secretly hoping that I'm not the one that finds Troy first. I don't know what I would say or if I can even look him in the eye at this point. My breath quickens and my palms get sweaty as I enter a part of the school where I can only hear my footsteps.

I reach two doors that have a sign on them that says "Rooftop" in red letters. I think for a second. There's a very low chance that he's going to be up there. But, what do I know? It doesn't hurt to look. Slowly, I push open the door and a stair case greets me. I don't scurry up them. I just take them one at a time, praying that he's not up here with each.

Once I reach the end of the stairs, for a moment I forget what I came up here for. I find myself in a small greenhouse. There are two steps to my right where the rest of the roof is. I scan the place in awe, wondering why I have never been up here before. Then, my eyes fall on him.

Troy can't see me and it doesn't look like he heard me come up. I walk forward until I'm just a few feet behind him. The sun is blazing on me and I feel its rays wash over me. He is standing on the high ledge of the roof looking out. There's a weak breeze rippling through his hair. His hands are poised at his sides, in loose fists as if he is nervous. He leans forward almost as if he was nudged slightly from the back. It hits me abruptly. Troy is standing on the ledge of a high school roof just before a 200 feet drop. That couldn't be a good thing. A quick shot of adrenaline reaches my brain.

"What are you doing?" I scream. My hand is in his immediately and I lurch us both back with all my strength, pulling our bodies down to the hot cement beneath us.

"Oof!" he grunts as he hits the ground. After a second, what urged me to pull Troy down is gone and all I'm left with his breathlessness. I have to manually put the pieces together in my head to comprehend what just happened. I look up at Troy and realize he's staring at me. I remember again.

"Fuck" I swear and let my head fall. I close my eyes for a second and then look up at him feebly. "Please tell me you weren't about to jump"

"What? No!"

My head falls again in relief. "Thank God"

We're both in silence for a while before he asks me, "Why are you up here?"

"Emily" I answer. He scrunches his eyebrows together in confusion.

As if on cue the school intercom crackles on and a voice says, "Will Troy Bolton please come down to the front office? Troy Bolton? Your sister is looking for you"

His mouth forms in the shape of an 'o' and He looks away.

I get up, finally and look down to see scratches on my knees. It was a bad idea to wear a skirt today. Troy is on his feet again too.

"You seriously freaked me out. What were you doing on the ledge?" I ask.

He shrugs. "Just standing, I guess"

"Standing?"

He nods. "Wanna try?"

For a moment, I can't believe he's asking. Stand inches away from a hundred feet plummet to certain pain? No thank you. But then, I think of my dream. I remember the high of the motorcycle and wonder if this would come close.

Troy's on top of it again and his hand is stretched towards mine. Fearlessly, I take it and climb up to him. I regret coming up straightaway.

"Oh my god" I gasp. Inside my shoes, my toes curl in fear and I tighten my grip on Troy's hand. The dream is forgotten. My desire for that high is miniscule. I want to jump down but I'm frozen.

"Don't look down" says Troy to me like it was an obvious fact. I lift my head up and breathe out slowly.

Gradually, the 'I'm standing on top of the world' feeling began to set in. I can see the vast expanse of neighborhoods around the school, the sun, clouds and what little nature there is left in the suburbs of Albuquerque. There are people everywhere, probably caught up in their daily schedule. But for me, there was no clock ticking anymore and everything was in a standstill.

"I think now would be an appropriate time to talk about what my sister might have told you" Troy steals my moment away. My stomach drops. What a malicious way to corner people. I felt as if I was handcuffed, prisoned and now taken for interrogation.

I look at Troy and find his soft gaze ten times more powerful than Emily's ever was.

"It's not true" he says.

I wait a moment. I'm more aware of standing on the ledge right now than what Troy is telling me. Without thinking I say, "So you don't love me?" like some sad puppy. Ugh. I want to hide my eyes with my palm but I'm still frozen. Out of all the things I could've said, that is what I choose?

Troy's eyes widen. "Is that what she told you!"

As if he wasn't paralyzed with fear like I was, Troy easily turns around and jumps the three feet off the ledge and onto the rooftop again. He gives me hand down. When he doesn't elaborate, I want to know more.

"Is that not what you expected?" I ask. I pick up my bag off the ground as he does his. He answers me as we walk to the exit of the rooftop.

"Well, Em usually tells people…less crazy things" he uses a nickname for her. "But I guess I shouldn't have expected less because if you haven't noticed, my sister is really crazy"

We've reached the staircase now and descend down it. There's a tug at my heart. I know that after what I just said, I should hold my tongue down but maybe it's because of Troy and standing on that ledge; I just couldn't.

"Wait!" I cry before he pushes the door open. I squeeze myself between him and the door. I reach behind me and hold the door closed while I face forward. As I gaze up at him, the past couple of weeks rush back to me. All that time I spent thinking about Troy and if he really liked me or not, I didn't want to accept that all of it was a waste. In another second, I feel the reality of the situation creep up on me. Troy is more close to me than I calculated. I can feel his cool breath on my face. He's waiting for me to speak but the strength of his eyes makes me mute. I can feel thousands of sparks burst in my head.

"Is it still not true?" I whisper ever so quietly.

His eyes soften, like when a frozen river starts to flow again in the Spring. I can't read what's going on behind them but for now, I'm okay swimming in that river. He let's go of the door and puts a thumb through the strap of his backpack.

"Why are you so curious, Ella?" says Troy playfully. My mouth drops and I'm speechless. Not because I really don't know why I am so curious but because I'm taken at how smoothly my name comes out of his mouth. _Ella._ No one calls me Ella. Andrew sticks to 'Brie' usually and my mothers favor 'Gabi'.

I look away nervously and stutter, "I..uh-"

Troy chuckles. My eyes are back in his. "I kind of have other things to worry about" he answers me at last. His lips are still curved. Troy looks down my body carefully and promptly I can feel blood rushing to my cheeks.

When his eyes reach mine again, his luscious voice rings, "But I'll keep the option open".


End file.
